


Summer Of ‘68

by thestrangersmemes



Category: Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)
Genre: 1960s, 4th of July, Assault, Back to School, Bromance, Cuddles, Dorks in Love, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, Homophobia, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Nightmares, Ouija Board, Pranks, Prequel, Summer, cemetery date, closeted homosexuality, cuteness, i think its my longest fic, kinda crappy ngl, nearly all of the characters brutally die after this fic takes place, nerds, young gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 12:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestrangersmemes/pseuds/thestrangersmemes
Summary: Chuck and Auggie’s relationship becomes a whirlwind of emotions over the span of their summer holiday.





	Summer Of ‘68

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys!!! just a quick trigger warning that this fic contains use of homophobic slurs, and some light violence. 
> 
> i think this may be my longest fic and im honestly pretty proud of it!!! ik the scary stories fandom is kinda dying but this ship still rocks my world so i couldnt just post one fic!! tysm for reading! if u find any typos/errors please lmk!!!!!

"Dork."  
"Idiot."  
"Nerd."  
"Loser."  
"Chicken."   
"Shut up, Chuck! I am not a chicken!"   
Auggie swung angrily, his whole body jerking as his fist collided with Chuck's upper arm. They exploded into a scuffle, falling onto the grass, punching and slapping eachother like children.  
"You guys know they say when a guy is rude to somebody, it means he has a crush on them." Stella interjected, watching them brawl.  
They both stopped. Auggie turned his head to glare at Stella.   
"Shut up!"   
Auggie loosened his grip on Chuck's collar.  
"Yeah, we all know Auggie is in lo-o-ove with my intolerable sister." Chuck laughed. Auggie squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.   
"I don't like her."   
Stella and Chuck exchanged doubtful glances.  
"Come on, let's just go inside for ice cream." Stella beckoned the two boys into her home, shaking her head at their bickering. 

It was finally June, the first month of a beautifully responsibility-free summer. Their sophomore year had ended fairly peacefully weeks ago, and now it was the time for them relax, and unwind, and truly enjoy themselves. The trio sat at the kitchen table, eating chocolate ice cream. Chuck ate his rather sloppily, of course, causing Auggie to recoil in disgust. He slid back, his chair producing an uncomfortable screech as it moved.   
"Look, Stella, thanks for inviting me over, but I think I gotta go. Mom's probably wondering where I am."   
"Okay, Auggie. Just call me later, kay?"  
"Yeah."   
Chuck looked up from his ice cream.  
"Wait, you're going?"   
Auggie stood up.   
"Yeah, Chuck. You're not sleeping over. Maybe Stella will be nice enough to-"  
"I can't." Stella interrupted. "Taking care of dad tonight."   
Chuck frowned.   
"Chuck, don't do the whole sad-eyes thing."   
Chuck did the whole sad-eyes thing, crossing his arms like a frustrated toddler.   
"Please, it's summer, Auggie! Don't make me be all alone tonight."   
Auggie sighed, coughing and rolling his eyes.   
"Fine." 

—————

"C'mon, Auggie, you know I'm always just kidding." Chuck sat next to Auggie on his sofa, hands in his lap.   
"I just don't get why you always have to tease me." Auggie exhaled, annoyed.  
"I just- I joke around a lot, dude." Chuck frowned and moved closer to Auggie, placing a hand on his shoulder. Auggie didn't move, keeping his gaze on the television.  
"It's fine, Chuck. I was just a little upset earlier."   
"I'm sorry, you know I never mean it."   
Auggie had many vivid memories of Chuck embarrassing him and teasing him. Tossing footballs right at his head, picking spiders up off the ground and chasing him around with them, calling him a dork, a nerd, a loser. He'd heard it all before. It always confused him because he always saw Chuck as his best friend- one of the few people who truly understood him. He wasn't sure why he acted so defiant sometimes.   
"Look," Auggie began. "My mom isn't home tonight. Why don't we have fun?"  
"Doing what?" Chuck responded, interested.   
"I don't know, maybe pull a prank?"   
Chuck's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really? On who?"  
"Tommy, maybe?"   
"Yeah! I hate that dickhead! What should we do?"   
Chuck was way too excited about this.  
"Hm. . ." Auggie thought, placing a hand on his chin. "We could TP his shitty farm." Auggie chuckled, half-serious.   
"Hell yeah!" Chuck grabbed Auggie's hand and raced upstairs to find some toilet paper.

They rushed off of the front porch, arms clutching handfuls of toilet paper rolls, giggling like little kids. The two sprinted to Tommy's family farm, happy as clowns. Feet stamping against the cement, breath heavy and full of wheezes, Chuck sped down the sidewalk, Auggie close behind him.  
"Chu-hu-hu-ck!" He shouted, his voice full of breathy laughter. "Are we actually gonna do this?!"  
"Fuck yeah!" Chuck yelled back, prancing down the corner of the sidewalk. Even though it was summer, the air was crisp and felt like it was full of life. Their hurried shouts echoed through the empty streets, their excited screams becoming less frequent as the approached Tommy's home.

They noiselessly walked down the dirt road leading to Tommy's house. Anytime Auggie would open his mouth to say something, Chuck would lift a finger to his lips and quietly shush him. They walked silently, shoes barely making a sound against the dust, a drastic change from the loud stomps of the cement sidewalk. It was the dead of night, the moon hung in the sky above the two boys, giving them the tiniest amount of visibilty. The only other visible light source was Tommy's porch lights.  
They hid behind a tree, Chuck gazing over the trunk to see Tommy's house in close distance. A huge oak tree stood in the front yard. He turned to face Auggie.  
"Alright, Gus," Chuck whispered. "Just run over to the front yard, and throw as much TP in that tree as you can. I'm gonna hit his porch." Auggie nodded.  
The pair jogged over. Auggie grabbed a roll from his left hand and placed it into his right, tossing it up into the tree and watching as it fluttered down and draped over the branches. Chuck was a shadow on Tommy's porch, A dark speck darting under the dim light of the porch lanterns. Auggie threw two, three, four, five more rolls of toilet paper into the tree before a loud bang startled him.  
"Ruuuuuuuuuuun!" Chuck yelled as he sped past Auggie. Confused, Auggie looked at the porch.  
"Oh, shit!" He turned and ran after Chuck.   
"You little shits!" Tommy yelled from the doorway, before his footsteps joined the orchestra of soft pattering on his dirt driveway.   
"Chuck!" Auggie yelled, trying to catch up with his friend. He glanced behind him as the trio ran, and noticed that Tommy was getting dangerously close.   
"Chuck!" He screamed again, his legs kicking into overdrive and carrying him as fast as they could. He caught up with Chuck, wheezing as he grabbed onto the back of Chuck's shirt, pulling him onto the shoulder of the driveway. They dove into a bush, Auggie collapsing on his back and Chuck ending up right on top of him.   
Chuck stared at him, eyes wide with fear, as they listened to Tommy yell in the distance.  
"You fuckin' dickweeds! I'll find you!" He screamed, his footsteps were angry, sounding like a textbook being dropped on a hard floor as they faded away. Tommy's shouts slowly drifted from earshot as well.   
Chuck grinned, breathing heavier than he ever had before, staring Auggie directly in the eyes.  
Auggie shared his expression, each breath entering and leaving with a soft, high-pitched wease like nails on a chalkboard.   
As they laid there, one on top of the other, catching their breath, Chuck observed. Auggie's shirt was coated with dust and grass-stains, his hair was messy and sticking out to everywhere, puddles of sweat on his forehead were being illuminated by the moonlight.   
"You've never," Chuck inhaled in between each word. "Looked better." He joked, his smile widening.   
"Really?" Auggie chuckled. 

—————

Days passed. No sign of Tommy yet. Thank God.   
"I can't believe you guys did that." Stella smirked, impressed.   
"Tommy's gonna rip you limb from limb, you idiots."   
"I know." Auggie smiled. "I don't care, though. It was fun."   
Auggie wrapped an arm around Chuck, catching him off guard. The sudden closeness was jarring.   
They sat, on Stella's porch, enjoying the amazing 80 degree weather.   
Chuck glanced at Auggie.   
"What are we doing for July 4th?" Stella looked at her two companions.  
"Well, uh, Ruth is going to some fancy country club's fireworks with a boy." Chuck looked at Auggie again. Why was his arm constricted around his shoulders so tightly?  
"Maybe you wanna go, Auggie? Try to impress her?"   
"Nah." He answered. "I'm not into her much anymore. . . Besides, isn't she going with the dude whose house we just vandalized?"   
"I honestly don't even know." Chuck said, squeezing his eyelids shut in confusion.   
"What about you, Stella?" Auggie asked.  
"I don't know." She answered. "Maybe watch some fireworks on TV?"   
"Hang out with us!" Chuck blurted out. Tension had been rising in his throat.  
"I don't know." She answered, shaking her head. "Dad might want me to stay in."   
"Please, Stella. I, uh. . . I miss you."   
A look of confusion appeared on her face.   
"Uh. . ." She laughed awkwardly. "Okay?"   
"You like her or somethin'?" Auggie teased, a smile appearing on his lips for a few short seconds.  
"No." He mumbled.  
"Uh. . . Well, this has been sufficiently awkward." Stella got up from her seat at the porch, and stood in front of her front door.  
"I guess I'll catch you guys later. I'll ask my dad about the Fourth of July." She smiled, and went inside the house.

"What was that about, Chuck?"   
"I dunno." He frowned, frustrated.   
"Just felt weird with your stupid arm around me."  
"Sorry, I didn't even realize I was. . . Uh, that close."   
"It's fine."   
The two boys walked, strolling peacefully down the sidewalk to Auggie's house.  
"You staying over again tonight?"   
"Yeah." Chuck's frown drooped even lower. "I can't bear to be alone."   
"Well, hey, maybe we can do something fun again." Auggie smiled, ruffling some of Chuck's dark, curly hair. 

Chuck was sprawled out on Auggie's bedroom floor, in a sleeping bag, by 9:00 P.M. No fun for them tonight after all, Auggie guessed.   
Auggie laid awake, reading a Superman comic in his bed, listening to Chuck's soft, barely-audible snores. It was weirdly peaceful. Something about not being alone at night was super comforting.   
So, he read, and listened, silently tracking Chuck's breathing pattern in his mind.   
Inhale. Wheeze. Exhale. Wheeze. Snore. Repeat.  
It went on like that for a few minutes. Auggie was entirely encased in his own world, mind completely at ease, reading his comic.  
Until something changed.  
It was minor at first. A slight rift in Chuck's breathing, a barely noticeable alteration. It slowly began to build up, until Chuck was sniffling and whimpering like a puppy in his sleep.   
Auggie set the comic book down beside him, and peered over the edge of the bed to watch Chuck. Silently, he observed Chuck, who was laying on his back, arms poking out of his sleeping bag, hands twitching slightly.  
Auggie swallowed.  
"Uh. . . Chuck, you alright?" He whispered, lightly pressing some fingers into Chuck's shoulder.  
Chuck responded by letting out an unintelligible grunt and shaking further.   
"Chuck?" He mumbled.   
Chuck's shaking continued, and he grunted some more. Auggie was beginning to get nervous. Was he having some kind of seizure? What should he do? Auggie panicked until he saw Chuck's eyes flutter open suddenly. Auggie flinched, not expecting him to wake so soon. He looked at him, worried.  
Chuck's eyes were red and slick with tears. The edges of his lips fell downward, plastering a quivering frown on his face. The two stared at eachother.  
"Chuck? Buddy? You okay?" Auggie asked in a low-tone voice.  
"I had that stupid nightmare." Chuck used his sleeve to wipe one of his eyes.  
"What nightmare?" Auggie asked, concerned. One of his arms hung over the edge of the bed, motioning for Chuck to come closer.  
"Here, come up here." He said, watching Chuck slowly sit up and climb onto the bed. He sat next to him.  
"I have this stupid nightmare," Chuck's voice was shaky. Auggie looked at him with concern in his eyes.   
"About this stupid fat lady." Auggie frowned, hearing Chuck's voice crack and collapse into quiet sobs.  
"Hey, it's alright," Auggie reached an arm over, wrapping it around Chuck and pulling him closer.  
"It's fine, Chuck. You're safe here."   
"I know." Chuck squeezed his eyes shut, tears dribbling down his cheeks. This nightmare must have been scarring. Auggie knew Chuck was NOT one to cry.   
They remained silent, Chuck occasionally sobbing softly onto Auggie's shoulder, and Auggie rubbing his back, trying to console him. Every so often Chuck would wipe his tears, and sniffle, only for his body to produce more droplets to fall down his face.   
Auggie had never seen Chuck like this.  
"I'm sorry, I know it's babyish." Chuck briefly lifted his face from Auggie's torso to wipe his tears and lock eyes with him. He sighed, his breath slightly jittery from crying.  
"No, it's not, at all. It's fine, I promise. I get it." Auggie smiled at him, fingers softly tracing along Chuck's spine.   
"You want me to get you some water or something?"   
"No, I think I'll be fine. Just hate that dream." Chuck replied. His eyes were almost dry now but still red. Auggie kept expecting him to move from the bed back to his sleeping bag, but he never did. 

—————

Auggie woke up next to Chuck at around 9 A.M, Chuck was still dead asleep, apparently without any more disturbances the past night. Auggie got up, dressed, and grabbed some breakfast for the two of them, carefully bringing it back up to his room. Chuck was only half awake when he got there.  
"I brought you some pancakes," Auggie smiled, setting the two plates down on his desk. Chuck smiled a childlike smile and raced out of bed, still in pajamas, and grabbed a plate. After excitedly gulping down a few bites, he spoke.  
"I'm sorry about last night."   
Auggie was lifting his fork to his mouth as Chuck began.  
"I don't know why I got so scared. Stupid hormones making me so emotional."  
"It's okay," Auggie answered. "I'd totally hug you. . . like, any time you got a nightmare." Chuckling akwardly, Auggie silently cursed himself for not thinking before he spoke.  
"Really?" Chuck laughed, confused.   
A bond had formed between them. Auggie could sense it. They had always been close friends, but what happened last night had bonded them even closer. It was weird. Auggie struggled to comprehend it fully.  
"Uh. . . Yeah." He smiled, the same tinge of awkwardness in his speech.   
Chuck finished his food.   
"I guess I'll head out." He said, smiling. "I'll call you later!"  
And with that, Auggie's bedroom was empty. Auggie climbed onto the bed. laid on his back, and stared up at the ceiling. What had happened last night?

—————

"Auggie, come in!"   
Auggie had been laying in bed for several hours. He was pretty sure he had fallen back asleep for a small time.  
He sighed, leaned over the edge of his bed and scrambled to pick up the walkie-talkie.  
"What, Chuck?" He spoke into the machine.   
"I figured out something we could do for the Fourth!"  
"Oh. . . What?"  
"That one park is doing fireworks." A different voice buzzed through walkie talkie.  
"Stella? You've been eavesdropping?"   
"Yeah," She laughed. "Couldn't come to the walkie right away but I heard you two."   
"Are you going to the fireworks at Buchanan Park?" Chuck asked.   
"Probably not." She answered.  
"I think Ruth and her stupid boyfriend are going. Maybe we can go, Auggie!"  
"Alright, cool." Auggie answered, running his fingers through his hair.   
"You okay, Auggie?" Chuck asked.  
"Yeah. . ." He responded. "Just been thinking."   
Stella and Chuck stayed silent.  
"I'm gonna go take a nap, okay? I'll talk to you guys later. Over and out." 

The weather on Independence Day 1968 was hot, almost unbearably so. It was so sweltering one could barely take a stroll down the street without sweating profusely. Once night fell, and the sun's aggressively heated waves subsided, and the moon's calming white light illuminated the streets.  
The fireworks were fine. Nothing special.   
Stella had conveniently decided not to show up so Auggie was alone with Chuck. . . again. They talked as the wandered the sidewalks home from the park, lit only by some soft streetlamps and the moon's rays.  
"How'd ya like the fireworks?" Chuck asked, his smile as big as the Cheshire Cat's.   
"They were great," Auggie answered, over exaggerating his enjoyment of the show.   
"Hot dogs were good." Chuck responded, looking around seeing how weirdly desolate the streets were. Usually kids would be blasting off fireworks in the streets.   
"Yeah," Auggie responded, exhaling.   
He had begun to say something else when the pitter patter of footsteps behind him caught his attention; they were gaining speed. He turned to look behind him, when a powerful force knocked him over, he felt two hands on his back push him to the ground. He landed face-first, arms sprawled out like a starfish on the sidewalk.   
"Auggie!?" Chuck gasped, looking to see who had done it.  
"Enjoying the 4th of July, losers?"   
Tommy.  
Chuck knelt down to help Auggie up.  
"Leave us alone!" He growled.  
"I haven't forgotten what you nerds did." Tommy's mouth was scowled into an aggressive, toothful frown. Chuck pulled Auggie's arm, and he sat up. His nose was bleeding.   
"You idiot! You could have broken his nose!"   
"Awww, did I hurt your boyfriend, faggot?"   
"He's not my boyfriend."   
Auggie sat on his knees, completely silent, trying to ignore the pain on the center of his face. He had tried to use his hands to break his fall, causing his palms to be completely scraped, and bleeding. Tommy was standing, arms folded, grinning now, admiring his work.  
More footsteps approaching them frightened the two boys. Chuck initially wanted to panic, to scoop Auggie up and run, but a familar voice yelling in the distance reassured him.   
"Tommy! What the hell are you doing?!"   
A female voice was yelling, growing closer and closer to the three boys until a form appeared under the streetlamps.   
"Tommy! Where are you, you fucking asshole?! How could you fucking ditch me?!"   
Ruth appeared behind Tommy, going on a tirate about how he left her alone at the park, until she noticed her brother.  
"Chuck?! What is going on?"   
He didn't even have time to answer until she rushed over.  
"Oh, my God!" She cradled Auggie's chin in her hands. "His nose is bleeding!"   
Her head jerked around, casting an angry stare at Tommy.   
"What the hell did you do to him?!" She yelled in an accusatory tone.   
"Those faggots TPed my fucking farm," he blinked, shaking his head. "I had to clean that shit up, and now they're gonna pay."   
He began approaching the three, producing a small pocketknife.  
"Get out of the way, Ruth."  
"Tommy! Are you insane? You're gonna attack them over something as stupid as THAT?" She yelled, standing up.  
"Get out of the way, Ruth." He repeated, voice deep in anger, gritty through his teeth.  
"Let's go, guys." She reached out, grabbing her brother's hand. "Auggie's hurt, and Tommy is a shitty fuckin' boyfriend."   
Auggie groaned in pain, Chuck and Ruth pulling him up so they could attempt to walk home. They turned and walked away, Tommy yelling in protest.   
"This is not over!" 

————— 

Auggie laid in Chuck's bed, nose wrapped in bandages, tears in his eyes.  
Their brief visit to the emergency room confirmed Auggie's nose hadn't broken, but had definitely gotten mangled. He had barely spoken the entire time, Chuck and Ruth staring at him sympathetically from across the room. Chuck explained to the nurse what had happened, she looked at poor Auggie with pity in her eyes.  
Chuck was laying next to him in bed, lightly tracing his finger down Auggie's collarbone.  
"I'm sorry." He whispered. "This is my fault."   
"How is it your fault?" Auggie asked, voice cracking into a whisper as well.  
"I brought you to that stupid park." Chuck's eyes were beginning to water. "I got you hurt."   
"You couldn't have known." Auggie answered, trying to smile.  
Chuck laughed sadly.   
"He thought you were my boyfriend."   
Auggie laughed too.   
"I would kiss you but I don't want our noses touching. Too much pain."   
Chuck knew he was only joking but something about being denied a kiss hurt him.  
"Auggie. . . I like. . . I don't know how to say this. You mean so much to me, Auggie."   
Auggie chuckled. "What are you trying to say?"  
"I've been denying certain feelings for so long."  
Auggie was so confused. Was this a fever dream?   
"I-Is this real?" He asked sluggishly.  
"Yeah." Chuck answered. "I know what I have to say I just don't know how to say it."  
"Hm. . . Maybe Tommy was right about us." Auggie responded, laughing childishly.  
"Shut up." Chuck said in disbelief.  
Auggie shrugged, smirking, and wrapped an arm around Chuck.  
"Maybe we should be together."   
He said, staring at one of Chuck's posters. A pin-up girl.  
"I'm happier when I'm around you, Chuck."  
"Yeah, me too." Chuck answered, head resting on Auggie's arm.  
"Just, let's not tell anyone, okay?" Chuck whispered, eyes on Auggie's poor injured nose.  
"Of course not." Auggie answered, his gaze moving from the pin-up to Chuck's eyes, completely enamored with his pale face and dark curls.   
"I love you, Chuck."  
"Yeah, I love you too. I guess."

—————

Chuck was shaken awake. A hand on his shoulder pushed his torso back and forth and told him to "Wake up!" He could sense skinny fingers wrapped around the edge of his shoulder, and the feeling of a looming presence looking over him.   
For a minute it was the pale woman.   
But when his eyes opened, it was just Ruth. Thank God.  
"Breakfast is ready, Chuck." She spoke calmly. "Wake Auggie up."   
She walked away, standing in the doorway for a second.   
"Don't worry, I won't tell them."   
She pointed at the floor, and Chuck presumed she was talking about their parents, who were probably downstairs at the kitchen table. Ruth had turned to leave when Chuck spoke up.  
"About what?"   
"About how you enjoy sleeping in a bed with other boys."   
And with that, she was gone.

As usual, Auggie returned home to an empty house. His mom and step-dad were off doing something, he didn't know exactly what. His mom hadn't even noticed he'd nearly broken nose. She didn't care.  
So, he grabbed a banana from the kitchen and marched up to his room, expecting a call from his mother later tonight, and a call from Chuck and/or Stella in several minutes.   
Climbing onto his bed, the walkie-talkie on the nightstand exploded into life with a burst of static and a voice.   
"Auggie?"   
His prediction was right. He picked up the walkie talkie and took a bite of his banana.  
"Stella?"   
"I heard you got hurt." She said. "You feelin' okay?"  
"Yeah, I think I'm fine." He sniffled, holding the walkie right up to his lips. "Where's Chuck?"   
"Oh, I'm not supposed to say." Stella was chuckling on the other end.  
"Why?" Auggie raised an eyebrow.  
"He's planning something for a special someone."  
"Oh, gosh." Auggie laughed, shaking his head. "He told you about us?"  
"Of course!" Stella replied. "Even if he hadn't, you two aren't exactly subtle. Sharing a bed almost every night." She laughed.  
"Oh, God." Auggie shook his head. "That's embarrassing. I never even realized how that looked."  
"It's fine." Stella reassured him. "He's so happy about it, he wouldn't stop talking about you when he told me."  
"He's cute."   
"He is."  
"Look, I'll catch you later, okay?"   
"Alright, Augster. Over and out."

—————

Auggie didn't think a midnight picnic was exactly ideal for a first date, but he understood Chuck's position and knew they couldn't just walk out in the open and go on a date. When he saw where the picnic was taking place, his mind completely changed.   
"Chuck," Auggie gripped his boyfriend's hand as they walked. "I really don't think I can eat in here."   
"Auggie, you will be fine." Chuck gleefully walked into the cemetery, picnic basket in hand, huge grin mocking Auggie's fear.  
"What if we get in trouble?" Auggie asked, swallowing.  
"You gotta stop being such a chicken."   
"You're lucky I like you."   
The graveyard was dark and uninviting. Dark grey tombstones glimmered under the moonlight, some brandishing bouquets of maroon flowers, mothers completely empty. It was like the set of an old-time horror movie. In the middle of it all, Chuck was eagerly laying down a picnic blanket, beaming like a child at the circus. The red-and-white patterned blanket laid between a huge, towering oak tree and a row of graves. Auggie sat down, uncomfortable.  
"Chuck. . ." He whimpered, glancing around the cemetery, fear in his eyes.  
"Calm down, Auggie, we're fine." He pulled a flashlight, some sandwiches, a bag of chips, and some lemonade from his basket. He sat down next to Auggie, and wrapped an arm tightly around him.   
"I won't let no spooks get yah!" He said, mocking a southern accent.  
Auggie laughed awkwardly. He looked at Chuck. Something had changed.  
They had always been close. Always. The decision to date was made on a whim, kind of as a climax to their long, intimate friendship. Auggie had kind of figured in his head that if their friendship was ever to end, he would want it to end by seeing it transition into a full-fledged relationship or death. Nothing else. He rubbed his eyes, still nervous.   
"What if someone sees us?"   
Chuck pulled him closer, and smiled.   
"Don't worry, Gus, I'm gonna take all your fear and anxiety away. You'll never be scared again."  
"What do you mean?"   
Chuck reached into the picnic basket, one arm still cradling Auggie's top half, and pulled something out. A dark brown square that resembled wood. Auggie finally realized what it was when Chuck lifted it face-up and he saw the printed dark black letters and numbers. It was an ancient-looking Ouija board.   
"Found it in our attic." Chuck grinned. "Isn't it creepy?"   
"Sure is." Chuck shook his head.  
Reaching into the basket again, Chuck pulled out a small wooden pointer, and placed the board in front of them both, laying the pointer on top. Auggie mindlessly chewed on his sandwich. His mind was at ease momentarily. Maybe Chuck had been right. Maybe he was too paranoid. He eyed the Ouija board. It was creepy, looking like it had been untouched in someone's attic for a hundred years. The black ink markings had been smeared in some spots, and some of the board's wooden edges looked like they were peeling. Chuck had two fingers placed on the pointer, and a gleeful grin on his face.   
"C'mon, Auggie!"   
Auggie set his sandwich down on a napkin and readied two fingers, placing them on the small, heart-shaped piece of wood.  
"What do we do?" He whispered.  
"Just ask a question, and focus." Chuck said, shutting his eyes.  
"Is there a spirit here?" He asked, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to focus.  
The planchette didn't move.   
"Come on, we're in a freakin' graveyard! There's gotta be at least one!" He whisper-shouted.   
In response to this comment, the pointer glided, heavy underneath their fingers to YES. Chuck giggled in joyful excitement.  
"What is your name?" He asked in a mocking tone, laughing like it was nothing. The planchette slid over the board much easier than it had the first time, like whoever had been holding it had loosened their grip.   
K-I-S-S.   
"Huh?" Chuck squinted at the board, confused. Then he realized.  
"Auggie, you jerkwad! You're moving it!" He laughed, and looked beside him, leaning in and lowering his tone of voice. Auggie's smile was huge and full of desperately contained laughter.   
"I thought I couldn't kiss you because your little nose was all injured."  
"I think I'll take my chances." Auggie smirked, craning his neck to be closer to Chuck.  
"Shut up." Chuck mumbled, and pressed his lips against the other boy's.  
And in that moment, like Chuck had promised, Auggie's fear had completely dissipated. They were kissing, in public. No one had found them. Nothing bad had happened. It felt great. It felt magical, it felt freeing. Auggie leaned into the kiss, resting a hand on Chuck's shoulder. Their heads turned and bobbed, lips caressing each other.  
It was over in a few seconds, but it felt way longer. The two pulled away and looked at each other. Auggie's nose was stinging slightly, but it had been worth it. He stared his boyfriend directly in the pupils, noticing how his eyes glimmered underneath the light of the stars. The stare was finally interrupted when Chuck looked away to grab his sandwich.  
"What time is it?" Auggie asked, eyeing the Ouija board, the planchette still laying on top of the S he had moved it to.   
"Close to 1 AM," Chuck responded, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Nearly the witching hour, Oooooooh. . ." Chuck said in an irregular tone, meant to mock the voice of a spooky ghost.   
"You think these things actually work?"   
Auggie asked, pointing to the board.  
"I don't know, Gus. I really don't know."

Eventually, Auggie snuck home, climbed into his bed and slept. 

—————

The week in August that Auggie was away at the beach with his mother was hell for Chuck. 

He was alone almost all of the time, and the few times he was able to hang out with Stella it was spent discussing the onset of school in the coming weeks. It was completely dreadful.

The occasional vengeful prank by Tommy Milner made it a little bit interesting. Even more interesting when Ruth would discover these pranks and mercilessly chide them both. 

Other than that, he was left to lie in bed or wander around the city streets, both of which had become unbearably boring over the summer. 

Chuck's solace was his phone calls   
with Auggie.   
"How's the beach, bud?"   
He would ask nearly every night Auggie was gone, to which he would reply with the exact same answer.  
"Fine, dude. You asked that yesterday."  
Chuck would laugh and talk about how he wished he was there, how boring Mill Valley had been, and how he and Stella had spent their days talking on her porch and maybe walking to the convenience store if they felt lucky. Auggie would just laugh, shake his head and promise he would be back soon to entertain them both.   
"I found you guys some cool shells. Can't wait for you to see 'em." Auggie would say, a tiny hint of humor in his voice.  
They'd talk for several minutes before Auggie would say his mom had prepared dinner, or they were going out somewhere and he had to go. Chuck would say he loved Auggie, and Auggie would reply with a simple "you too," too scared his mother would hear him saying he loved someone and would start asking questions. The calls would end with a thin, melodic click. 

The day Auggie returned home, Chuck eagerly sat on the edge of the sidewalk, mindlessly doodling with sidewalk chalk on the cement below him. Auggie had promised to return by noon, so Chuck had marched himself out to the sidewalk at around 11. Stella eventually joined him, too, at around 11:30.  
When the familiar vehicle belonging to Auggie's mother had appeared, Chuck's eyes lit up.  
God, he missed him.   
The car parked, and Auggie's mother filed into the house, arms stuffed full of bags and suitcases. Auggie climbed out of the backseat, one arm clutching a small backpack and the other clutching a wheeled suitcase.  
"Let me help you with that, baby," Chuck said, trying to reach for one of Auggie's bags.   
"No, it's fine. I got it." Auggie smiled, letting the bags go and wrapping his arms around Stella, then Chuck.  
"I missed you guys."  
The pair nodded, watching Auggie eagerly unzip his bag, face full of glee, and pull out two huge conch shells, handing one to each of them. The shells were an uneven mix of tan and grey, one end pointy and the other circular and spiraling.   
"Oh gosh, Augs, You didn't have to get me anything." Stella remarked, lips curled into a smile.   
"There's plenty more where that came from," Auggie responded, closing his backpack and reattaching it to his shoulders. "I found so many cool ones."  
Chuck hadn't even paid attention to their conversation, still admiring the shell in his hands.  
"You know," Auggie grabbed one of Chuck's hands, moving it so that the interior of the shell was pressed against Chuck's ear. "They say you can hear the ocean if you put a conch against your ear."   
Chuck grinned, imagining the waves crashing as he listened to the shell, staring into his love's brown eyes.

—————

Summer faded away as quickly as it had appeared, and first weeks of school had passed without too much trouble. Chuck was lucky enough to have several classes with his friends, and unlucky enough to have homeroom with Tommy Milner, who would still occasionally throw paper balls at the back of his head. He was thankful for the wonderful Ms. Collins, who usually hushed the immature behavior before Chuck could work up the nerve to respond.   
On a late September afternoon, Auggie and Chuck walked home together.  
"Shit! I forgot my English textbook." Auggie exclaimed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.   
"Hey, it's alright, you can borrow mine for tonight." Chuck reached into his bag and pulled the huge block of paper and cardboard out, handing it to Auggie.  
"Thanks."  
They watched the orange and yellow leaves dance as they fell to the ground.   
"You want to study at my place tonight?" Chuck asked, sneakers clunking against the pavement.  
"By study do you mean lay in your bed and talk about all the tests we should be studying for?"   
"Yeah."  
"Definitely."   
They reached Chuck's driveway.   
Auggie enveloped Chuck in his arms, the shorter boy pressing his face into Auggie's red, cotton sweater.  
"We goin' trick-or-treating this year?" He asked.  
"I suppose. One last hurrah, right?"   
"Yeah. I guess."   
They pulled apart, and Chuck slowly began walking to his front door.   
"I love you, Auggie." He said, waving goodbye to Auggie.  
"I Love you, too, Chuck." He turned and kept walking. "See you tonight!"   
Chuck climbed the steps to his front door, quickly glancing back to watch the boy in the red sweater and khakis walk home. Chuck entered the house, climbed the steps to his room, and looked out the window. The leaves prancing down onto the sidewalk outside were beautiful shades of yellow, orange and brown. A tan-and-grey shell sat on the window sill, and an old Ouija board had been hastily placed on the dresser, resting on top of a brown picnic basket.   
Chuck dropped his backpack on his bed and sat down, his heart thumping in his chest as he anticipated the night's events.


End file.
